


Swam Upon the Devil's Lake

by Wawa_Girl



Series: Never Dance Alone [3]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Psychological Trauma, References to Avengers: Infinity War, Romance, Starmora Week, Starmora Week 2018, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-04 03:36:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15832950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wawa_Girl/pseuds/Wawa_Girl
Summary: It was only aname.Day 3: Night Confession / Stargazing





	Swam Upon the Devil's Lake

"Hehehey! What are you doing up there?"

The woman seated adjacent to the pilot's chair looked to the ceiling of _The Quadrant_. A certain childlike tree was hanging from one of the beams with a strong, safe grip.

"Buddy, those aren't monkey bars. Get down from there," Peter Quill said with a kind laugh, and raised his hand for Groot to climb down. The kid only swung his legs back and forth. Peter smiled genuinely at the cute sight, and Gamora watched endeared.

None of the adult caretakers were busy, Groot was getting bigger, and Peter had a good eye on him. All was peaceful and content, a common mood when the three were alone in a room.

Watching Peter and Groot play had become a fond experience for Gamora. She of course enjoyed spending time with the youngest Guardian herself, but never needed to join the activities to feel their bond radiating through the air.

Peter was _always_ sweet and gentle with the growing sapling, even when sarcasm and trickery were involved. Since he dropped the tough, outlaw persona, showing kindness to the child had become second nature. For a man with such a disadvantaged past and extremely poor paternal role models, for all mistakes and flaws present and future, he was a wholesome father figure in every reasonable, healthy sense.

It was something Gamora loved most about him. It was these small, quiet moments she observed that helped her realize the insufferable ex-con truly was special, layered, and wonderful.

And it was also a very _attractive_ trait, if she was being honest.

"Now what are you doing?" he asked with a chuckle. "Enough shenanigans."

So Gamora _hated_ that she allowed her mind to ruin the calm atmosphere when Peter uttered two completely innocent words.

"Come on. Jump down, little one."

The former assassin's entire being was sent into shock. 

Memories of a heinous monster. A madman she knew too well. A twisted, purple face.

A sick, booming voice.

_Do not weep for them, Little One. I am the father you truly need._

_Embrace the pain. It is for your own good, Little One._

_Well done, my daughter. The best, fiercest child I have been blessed. Thank you, for doing my bidding, dear Little One._

Every demeaning echo of those words, paired together in the familiar context that made her life feel like a poison to the world, their memory and meaning were taking over her thoughts, replaying over and over in her brain without rest--

"Gamora?"

Peter's concerned voice snapped her out the paralyzing state. Drowning in the sudden flashbacks and emotional stabbings, she hadn't noticed her breathing becoming erratic or tears filling her eyes.

She swallowed and blinked, and looked at Peter and Groot's innocent faces. The child was now standing on the human's shoulder, also looking worriedly at his maternal figure.

"I am Groot?"

"Yeah, are you _okay_?" Peter finally asked, dumbfounded about what brought on her unexpected distress.

Gamora attempted to pull herself together. That series of sentences, the dark past that should be confined to nightmares, they held no power over her ability to enjoy the day.

It was fine. Those two were just playing. They didn't know about that name, and she needed to stop thinking about it. No more foolish self-pity.

"Yes," she stated in a clipped voice and cleared her throat. _Don't ruin their fun with an explanation._ It was a ridiculous comparison; the triggering was a weakness.

"Is there trouble? Did you see or read something?" he asked the most obvious questions for why someone would suddenly look horrified and despondent on a heavy spaceship, a member of a crew with a dangerous job and several possible enemies. He made no jump to the Captain's seat, however, to search the screens for any impending attack or crash. He had to know her random, uncomfortable mood change was entirely due to personal issues.

But not _why_.

Gamora dropped her gaze to her lap and took a deep breath. This was absurd. It was a _name_. It wouldn't be the only time she heard a parent and child use loving endearments. "No. No, no, everything is fine. I don't know why--"

"I am Groot?" the sapling asked worriedly.

Gamora's heart melted at the question. "No. No, I'm not upset with you, Groot. Don't worry, sweetie," she reassured with a smile.

"Ha, besides a lot of showing off and monkey business, you didn't do anything wrong, buddy," Peter switched to cheering him up, and Gamora relaxed. "If the queen of the ship's upset with anyone, it's not you, little one."

She let out a long exhale, head spinning, tears returning. It is not the _same_. She shouldn't _care_. She couldn't police their cute nicknames.

"I..." she began and stood up from the seat, and hardly registered the two's surprised and concerned expressions gazing at her again. "I need to...check the garbage...disposal," she said quickly through her clogged throat, and walked in a brisk pace straight ahead without another word.

"Mora?" Peter's voice called out as she left the two alone, left them free to play without her lack-of-control on her painful history to poison their bonding.

The door to the couple's bunk slid closed, and the fiercest woman in the universe leaned against the metal and finally allowed the teardrops to fall.

**********

Avoiding the rest of the team, especially Peter, for a majority of the day was an irrational and cold decision Gamora wasn't proud.

Peter wasn't hurting Groot. Peter didn't selfishly kidnap, painfully alter, or destroy the life of a child for his own agenda and twisted morality.

Peter wasn't _him_. 

Peter's love was genuine and real. He wasn't her previous abuser, involuntary master, impostor and self-titled "father." The mental association alone was grotesque, laughable.

Nevertheless, the remainder of the afternoon and evening was unbearably tense. More so than a lazy stroll through a cloud field should have been. The female Guardian's inability to shake her nausea and uncomfortable thoughts had drawn everyone's attention. She immediately left every room Peter entered, barely met _eyes_ with Peter at the supper table, and eventually confined herself to their bedroom for hours, cleaning and organizing, and playing music on a low volume, a grounding reminder of her current life, the pleasant melody nothing like the routine sounds when she lived--

"Knock knock!"

Gamora jolted from her position on their bed - sitting with her knees to her chest - but recovered quickly.

Peter's voice. He didn't require permission to enter his own, _their own_ , bedroom. He was _checking_ on her, and she wanted to slice the feeling of helplessness to pieces. He didn't need to treat her with kid gloves. Though it wasn't the first time he had prefaced his actual, physical knocking with the ridiculous habit of saying "knock knock" out loud.

When she didn't respond besides turning off the music and clearing her throat, Peter slid open the door and gave a kind, but nervous wave. "Hey."

"Hi," she answered softly, now standing by the bed and holding a secure posture. 

Peter closed the door and slowly walked inside with a funny shuffle every fourth step. He wasn't buying her nonchalance, but didn't appear annoyed at her evasive communication. Just nervous. "So..." he began, leaping to the point. "What did I do?"

She crinkled her nose as though confused. Inside she felt terrible. "Nothing." It wasn't a lie. Peter had done nothing wrong. She was just a mess--

" _Gamora_ ," he said incredulously. She sighed and walked around the bed, avoiding his face. "You're _such_ a shitty liar, you know that?" he said, this time in frustration, though still looking so fearful regarding whatever was truly upsetting her.

_I know that._

"You've been in a bad mood all day," he continued. "And I know it's because of _me_."

"No, I--"

"Yeah, sure, you haven't exactly been a ray of sun to the other goofballs, but I can tell from the way you looked at me for a total of _two_ whole stinkin' seconds at dinner, before shooting your head away like I'm the Devil--"

_"Peter."_

"Am I wrong?!" he nearly shouted in defense, then sighed to calm himself. "I'm sorry. Just--we've all been worried about you. _Groot_ is worried about you. You first started acting funny when--"

"I know, I _know_. But you..." She paused to swallow, grateful that Peter didn't take advantage of the silence and speak again. She looked up at him with earnest, tearful eyes. "You did _nothing_ wrong, Peter."

He immediately closed their distance and held her shoulders. When she resisted an obvious sniffle his face softened more, and he instinctively dried her tears with his thumbs. "Alright. Barging in and demanding an answer wasn't my smartest plan."

She looked up at him again in agony. "You didn't do that. It's okay to want to know." _I'm the problem. We'll arrive on Xandar soon. We don't have time for these petty issues._

"I did _something_ to hurt you. And I'm sorry. Whatever it is, I promise I won't do it again," he said sincerely, and for an impulsive manchild like Peter, it was a testament to how much he hated seeing her in pain. "Can you share the secret? We're alone, no one's listening."

Gamora almost didn't believe that privacy claim. Privacy was a rare luxury in their family, and she would have been weary of eavesdroppers if she didn't then overhear Rocket cussing out the spare engine. Upon further listening, Drax could be heard winning a belching contest with himself, and Mantis was talking sweetly to Groot. _At least he has another, less damaged maternal figure._

"Orrrr...we could just cuddle like dorks and listen to music, if you think you'll feel better in the morning?" her boyfriend finally offered, possibly fearing that pestering her to tell him what's wrong would be the opposite of a solution. "As long as you're not totally pissed at me enough to put a pillow over my face in my sleep--"

"It was when you were playing with Groot," she cut off his attempt to joke, saying the words with more aggression than intended. Again more upset at _herself_ , at the difficulty in speaking the sentence, than at Peter's persistence.

"I figured," he said, a little surprised at her quick and sudden response. "But why? Ya seemed fine, like, moments before. Then all of a sudden..." he drifted off. Gamora remained silent, gathering strength. "All of a sudden you looked like a zombie, or like you were watching someone being murdered."

In a way she was. Somehow the name had transported her back, not just to the rewards for ill deeds, nor only to the torture and surgical rooms, but to her home-planet where it all began. Where she'd _stupidly_ taken the giant hand of a nefarious stranger in a city full of blood and screams. The hand of a mammoth who would slaughter her parents and race.

"Did you think I was being too hard on him?" Peter then whispered and turned his head. Gamora sighed and felt horrible again. She knew these insecurities, how much _better_ Peter wanted to be at parenting than Yondu, how much he feared becoming as harsh and rough as the Ravager Captain had treated him in his childhood.

"No," she said firmly. "Not at all, Peter."

"Too _easy_ on him?" he asked, clearly scrounging the bottom of the barrel. Another common worry, that due to his desire to be a "fun parent" like his mother, and overcompensate for Yondu's abuse, he would wind up spoiling Groot rotten. "I know he disobeyed, but he wasn't _breaking_ anything, and you were smiling--"

"I was telling the _truth_ , Peter. You did _nothing_ wrong," Gamora said, determined. She couldn't keep putting Peter through this. _Confess it._ "It was something you _said_ that struck a personal, unpleasant nerve with _me_. That's all. I'm sorry I've taken it out on you today." She grabbed his hands and said all of this conclusively. Groot loved Peter, Groot trusted him, and he _should_. None of this was about them.

Peter stepped back, holding the rings on her fingers. "Ohh," he answered, like he never considered that option, like he was _berating_ himself for not considering that option. "Okay. Whaaat did I...?"

She bit her lip and rolled her eyes. "It was just a _name_ you called him. Harmless. Please, Peter--"

"Buddy?" he asked with a suppressed smile, his girlfriend watching his brain work overtime to remember a second name that escaped his mouth that day, something new that could be viewed as offensive.

Gamora fortunately put him out of his misery quickly, smirking at the joke and sitting on the edge of the bed. Then she gnawed on her tongue and prepared herself to recite the real words. "You called him..." The warrior nearly _choked_. She never said the Titan's nickname for her out loud, always on the receiving end. "Little One." There was definitely bile in her throat.

The explanation didn't help her poor Terran boyfriend with a jerky sense of humor and desperate, critical need to support her. "Umm...that triggered bad memories because...?" he asked slowly, rather than conducting another guessing game.

"I've never mentioned," she sighed, "that it was a common nickname from--"

"Ohh," Peter said sadly, like he'd just solved the puzzle. It wasn't horrified enough, though. Gamora knew he was incorrect before he even finished. "Your father?" he asked in a quiet voice full of sympathy.

How Gamora wished Peter's guess was the case.

It was a fair assumption. Peter knew how close Gamora was to her father, her _real_ father. How much she loved, admired, and longed to emulate him. How he believed and taught her strong, noble values. How she would give anything to see him again, and hated Thanos to the end of the universe for giving himself that title, crushing her late father's grave.

Peter always treated stories and memories of Gamora's father with somberness and respect, just as she did regarding her boyfriend's deceased mother. The idea of her biological father calling her "Little One" when she was small almost made the words less awful in her mind. 

No wonder Peter made the comparison. It was adorable. Precious, really. He had "Star-Lord," a childhood nickname gifted from his mother, a wholesome expression of love. And she had--

Several seconds of silence passed before Gamora looked up at Peter with fresh tears and slowly shook her head _no_.

"Oh. _Ohhh..._ " Gamora _saw_ the gears turning in the human's head before understanding dawned in his eyes, and his look of realization changed to confusion again.

Then shock.

Then repulsion.

"Wait, _what?!_ "

"It was a... _pet name_ of sorts," she spit the words.

" _Pet_ name?" Peter spit harder.

"Technically." She nodded. "He...he called me...Little One...the day he took me--the moment he found me in the crowd. And ever since...it was a common...well..."

"You're telling me that sadistic, cruel fucking bastard thought it was _endearing_ to--" Peter was sputtering in disgust, and Gamora loved his anger on her behalf, unneeded as it was.

"Yes, and it's weird, and manipulative, and wrong."

"Fucking Hell it is!" he shouted, then saw Gamora trembling slightly and lowered his voice. "That makes _no_ sense. Why would..."

"He's not logical, Peter!" she didn't mean to yell back. "He's not... _good_." _He's not good like you._

"DUH, I _know_ , but..."

"It was _all_ the time. A general replacement for my name."

"So...to _taunt_ you?" he asked, likely imagining creepy whispers in her ear during torture sessions, and the aftermath of throwing a screaming and crying child into a cell while cooing a demeaning name. And that unfortunately wasn't far off from reality.

"Sometimes, I guess." Thanos also wasn't _consistent_. Of course Peter pictured hatred and barbarism at every corner. "Other times genuinely happy, in gratitude and praise for a successful...assignment," she said the vague word and turned her head in shame.

"Mora..." he sighed sadly and hesitantly touched her shoulder. She didn't shrug off the comfort.

"I know no one can understand. _I_ don't understand. But...on some level, in his own twisted way..." In a way Peter would use much harsher, colorful language, "...he thought he was a true 'father'. That I was his true adopted daughter. You knew I was the 'favorite'." A description famous in news headlines across the galaxy. Thanos' highest ranked assassin in his personal army, his favorite child. Nebula threw it back at her constantly. Words such as "best" and "favorite" and the perceived affectionate "Little One" ignited envy in her faux siblings, but filled Gamora with hatred, and dreams of future courage to escape. "He thought he 'loved' me..."

" _Bullshit_ ," Peter's anger returned. The coarse rebuttal didn't bother Gamora at all. No doubt was he furious over more than the innocent little girl taken and abused and forced to be everything she stood against. Not only enraged about the unfathomable, heartbreaking injustice for the woman he loved.

She knew he was also thinking of _'My River Lily'_. His own blood father using a romantic nickname for an innocent person he claimed to love, before justifying a brain tumor as an act of necessity. The cognitive dissonance always made Peter want to vomit.

"Right," she replied calmly. "You're not wrong. It's...bullshit." Accurate for Thanos' entire philosophy. "The attempt to act _fatherly_ under those circumstances? I hated it. Yet I did...grow used to it." _Like most living nightmares._ "I became deaf to the name when I willed. I avoided him as much as possible, listening only to vital information. It was daily. Second nature. I _had_ to be strong," she explained and looked up from her hands to Peter's eyes. Explained a fraction of a dark life she knew Peter could never grasp. He was still visibly aghast and disgusted, though thankfully silent during her summary. "Now...since settling with you and the team...when I heard you call Groot..."

"Gamora, I had _no_ idea," he said in _such_ an apologetic, understanding, respectful voice, finally sitting next to her on the bed.

"Of course you didn't," she said the obvious. "You cannot read my mind. Blubbering, acting rude or hostile, was wrong--"

" _Dude_ , Gamora," Peter said incredulously again. "I totally get it now. _I'm_ sorry."

"I created a mountain out of a minor--"

"Any normal person would be upset. That's fucked up memories to the max," Peter said, like _that_ was the most obvious thing in the world, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.

Gamora nodded, and allowed herself to relax in his warmth and shared regret. "I'm not angry at you. I could have communicated it from the start, if I was going to care so much." She understood if Peter was frustrated that she hadn't simply explained sooner. "I don't think it was _only_ the negative memory association that bothered me," she continued. "I..." Peter was twisting his fingers through her hair gently. It felt nice. "I hated myself for letting my brain even subconsciously compare you to Thanos," she said, letting the guilt drip out of every syllable. " _You_ are nothing like him. You love Groot, and that name should _not_ have spawned any parallels for a _second_..."

"Mora, sheesh, I'm not offended by that!" Peter let go of her hair and shoulders to look at her, to be sure that she could read his expression. "Your brain did a thing. If I was tortured and imprisoned, and somehow survived as long as you have without literally falling apart, I think _any_ similarities between the sadistic freak responsible and somebody I love now would mash together. If you quoted that lame excuse for a planet-god-whoever by accident, it would probably suck. It's not your fault. I _know_ you don't really hate me, or I'd already be dead," he joked, and resumed stroking her hair. Gamora soaked up his words. The wrongful comparison still felt shameful, but she allowed a little forgiveness to enter her system at Peter's reassurance.

"Thank you," she replied. "I believe it also hit me hard because...well, the unexpectedness." Gamora used to always anticipate the unexpected. Oh, how her lifelong guard had been dropped to the ground. "When I consider the direction of my life, I never imagined a time when Thanos wasn't on my mind every hour. Today I live so differently, so _happy_ and content. It's been less than a year, but I...I don't think of him too often..."

"And I ruined it for you today," Peter said in sad, perceived realization.

_No._

_Screw that._

_Peter 'ruined' nothing._

Gamora immediately grabbed the face of the idiot she loved and forced him to look at her, switching the roles of comfort. "No," she said affirmatively. " _No._ You...you, Drax, Rocket, and Groot, and Mantis...you are the _reason_ I don't think about him often. You are the reason his power has diminished, that I fear Thanos so rarely," she confessed in a choked voice. It needed to be clear. "If I had successfully escaped but spent my life alone, or in prison, I would surely still be haunted by his memory every day. It matters less now." Peter seemed to believe her and relax, smiling at her declaration of a new routine and purpose. "It is a blessing to be able to forget."

The Terran leader looked touched and grateful all at once, and leaned in to kiss her cheek clean. When she grinned wider he kissed her lips in a move that was reciprocated.

He pulled away after a minute and whispered, "You're worth so much more than that creep made you feel."

More tears leaked and fell down Gamora's face, but she nodded with confidence. "I know that," she said, though never tired of Peter's reminders.

"You'll never have to hear those words from him again," he then assured, squeezing her tighter, and Gamora sighed. _That_ could not be guaranteed. "Really. Fuck 'im. The next time you have to even _think_ about that evil Titan is when he's in the ground."

Rather than inform Peter about the unlikelihood of that fantasy, she opted to enjoy the moment and change the subject. "A true knight in shimmering armor." A phrase her boyfriend had called himself teasingly in the past.

"Ha, on weekends," he milked the compliment and gave a playful wink. "You're a two-time galaxy-saver. An awesome, sweet mom. Star-Lord's girl. You don't need to worry about that man's voice degrading..."

"It's not that simple," she answered and shook her head. She wished it could evaporate with a snap, that the wonderful people in her life and list of positive changes could cancel out the bad--

"I know. I know," Peter conceded slowly. It broke her heart how he really _tried_ to understand the demons in her head, the process that may take a lifetime to end. "But you've made a _really cool_ , unbelievable start," he said and kissed the top of her head. "Feeling better tonight?"

She answered with a genuine smile, holding the silly optimist's hand again. "Yes." There was no hint of terrible lies.

"We all love you, the _real_ you," he said seriously. "Your _real_ father would be proud of you."

Gamora lowered her eyes and couldn't speak besides a cracked "thanks."

The fog was clearing outside, the space voyagers observed from the windows of their quarters. The couple's silent, physical acts of comfort resumed, Gamora resting her head on Peter's shoulder. Perhaps they would land earlier than expected the following morning. The Nova meeting would be a welcome distraction, surrounding herself with more respectable people who viewed her in a positive light.

"Thank _you_ for trusting and telling me," Peter eventually replied. "For the record, I'm not gonna call Groot 'little one'--err...shit," he quickly cursed his loose lips. "I mean, _that name_ anymore."

"Peter, it is harmless. You _can_ ," she began without moving her head.

"I promised whatever I did to upset you, I wouldn't do it again. It's easy. A bajillion corny nicknames I can use, why continue Thanos'..." he cut himself off again, no doubt finding the concept of _'Thanos' pet name'_ too grotesque to utter. "Why repeat one I know hurts?" he asked softly, and Gamora couldn't find a good disagreement. "I don't know where it came from today; just randomly slipped out." _'Twice,'_ Gamora recalled in amusement. "Groot's getting too big for a nickname about being 'little' anyway." It was true the sentient tree grew faster than most species, though it would be difficult not to forever see him as the baby of the team. "And so are you."

Gamora knew it was meant to be a compliment, but she tore her head from his shoulder and raised her eyebrow anyway. Peter's eyes comically bugged out.

"Ooh, crappy choice of words with the girlfriend," he admitted, flustered. Gamora outright laughed and nudged his side. If anybody _was_ eavesdropping they were probably amazed by the difference in her mood. "I meant that you're too...mature and strong for an insulting childhood name from--"

"I understand, Peter," she rescued him from returning to the dark side of conversation.

"And that I love you."

"I love you, too, Peter. Very much," she assured. Each day was a new revelation of _how much_ she loved him, and she raised her head to kiss him longer.

Never had the assassin, the warrior, the surviving Zehoberei and Guardian of the Galaxy _dreamed_ she would ever confess to another person the name so painful that it made her feel small. A secret so seemingly insignificant yet vulnerable. But trusting Peter was her new second nature, and a weight was gone now that he knew. The wholesome father figure, the unconventional heroic leader of the crew, the fellow damaged soul she loved, Peter helped _boost_ her already growing confidence all the time.

 _The Quadrant_ was quieter than at the start of the conversation. Gamora wouldn't have been surprised if Rocket and Drax, who had miraculously ceased their racket, overheard crucial details she had told Peter during the height of emotion and yelling. It could be handled later. Gamora preferred to only reveal past Thanos-related memories, rare moments of sadness and vulnerability, behind closed doors with Peter, but the rest of the family never mocked the subject.

The couple broke their deep kiss and sighed. Groot could still be heard stating his name to Mantis. It sounded like they were playing a game involving the empath's powers.

"You really didn't eat much," Peter reminded her in concern, taking clear notice of her wet eyes and rough breathing. "How 'bout some snacks? In bed?" he offered with a flirtatious grin and stood, as if that was the least bit sexy. Gamora was already in her sleepwear, having spent the evening hibernating in the room. Peter still had on his belt and shoes, but could be ready in a flash to jump into bed to hold her and munch food crumbs everywhere if she agreed. _Or_ leave to give her more space if she insisted.

"Music, snacks, and warmth?" she asked, the idea growing on her once she said it aloud. "Sounds okay, if you want," she pretended to agree only to please the man, not because it was the best idea. "I will talk to Groot tomorrow," she then said seriously, climbing into her side of the bed. "Let him know it was temporary sadness, and I'm okay."

"I didn't mention music," Peter said with a new smirk, inching toward the door. It was a silly, waste-of-breath comment. Music was _always_ involved with Peter. "But if we _must_ , okay, resume blasting the great Patricia at the highest volume," he teased.

Gamora paused and straightened in embarrassment. "I...don't know what you're..."

"Ohh, Queen of this Ship, Tough Cookie, and Benatar-Lover," he mocked her obvious fibbing in a playfully condescending voice, eyeing the Zune on the bedside table. "It's fine. Good music is _meant_ to be played _loud_ ," he informed and winked. "Heard you humming Pat's top songs the few times you emerged to use the bathroom," the pilot explained, cocky. "Thanks for getting _Hit Me With Your Best Shot_ stuck in my head."

There was no way Peter was honestly bothered by that. The green heroine may have developed an appreciation for Miss Benatar's vocals and style, but Gamora would never let her boyfriend forget the awkward incident on Xandar - Peter dancing down the streets with his eyes closed, listening to the song via earbuds and belting out the lyrics at the top of his lungs, making some inappropriate kicking moves and "firing" gestures, unknowingly passing by a _funeral_.

Rocket had nearly choked on laughter at the offended stares.

No, Peter was thrilled by her choice playlist, only teasing to cheer her up, or forewarning the week-long humming that would buzz from his throat, in result driving his girlfriend mad.

"So I like her," Gamora shrugged. "You told me she is a fine female artist of the eighties?"

"A real badass on stage, just like you on the battlefield," Peter Quill stated naturally. "Good taste, no opposition," he complimented her selection, before leaving the room for midnight goodies.

Gamora waved at his temporary exit and made herself more comfortable against the pillow. She picked up the Zune next to their flower vase and fiddled with the buttons, happily scrolling through the album. "The musical style speaks to me," she confessed to the empty quarters. "Pat understands."

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, no more hearing Thanos' voice or words ever again. Never. (I'll leave.)
> 
> Title is from _The Wind_ by Cat Stevens.
> 
> My _Guardians of the Galaxy_ tumblr is [here](https://marypoppinswasmyfatherbitches.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
